


Those Who Return (And Those Left Behind)

by Baron_Barkonnen



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A long while..., Character Death, Child Death, Depression, Everything is sadness, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Parent(s), Realistic Snap, Semi-graphic childbirth, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Violence, at least for a little while
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22987840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baron_Barkonnen/pseuds/Baron_Barkonnen
Summary: April 26th, 2018. Half of all life in the universe gets turned to dust. Everyone lost someone. Some lost everyone. Over five years later, October 23rd, 2023, those turned to dust come back. Those who turned to dust... and only those. Unfortunately for Michelle Jones, the millions upon millions who were lost in the ensuing chaos... they don't get to come back.
Relationships: Happy Hogan/May Parker (Spider-man) (background), Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	1. Ashes to Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags. This is a seriously depressing story.

A massive ring shaped ship descended on an unsuspecting New York. The downwash from the thrusters used to keep it aloft over the city scape kicked up pedestrians and cars alike, causing general chaos and pandemonium below.

Fortunately, one Michelle Jones was miles away, sitting in a beat up bus seat, trying not to seem _too_ eager about her class field trip to the Museum of Modern Art. In truth, her inner artist couldn’t be more excited. But she stuffed her innate excitement into a mental bottle, trying her best to not let her elation show on her face. She had a certain aloof and stoic image to maintain, after all. The bus only made it around half way across the Queensboro bridge before Michelle’s prospects for a normal field trip went out the window. 

“Holy shit!” Ned cried from a few rows in front of her. “We’re all gonna die! There’s a spaceship!”

Michelle’s eyes narrowed. God dammit, why couldn’t they have a normal field trip for once? She angrily growled as her personal space was invaded by kids all jockeying to get a good look at their impending doom. From her own window seat, Michelle could clearly see the giant flying donut hovering over the New York skyline. 

Even miles away, she could see the cars careening through the air, kicked up by the extreme winds caused by the colossal wheel shaped ship. Ned wasn’t joking. This was just like… like… she began to hyperventilate, remembering what happened six years ago.

* * *

Her parents had taken her on a rare trip to Manhattan, her mom insisting on going on a shopping spree with her ‘baby-girl’. It was her parent’s idea of an early birthday trip and reward for her near perfect report card. Eleven year old Michelle scowled, crossing her arms as she plopped onto a food court bench.

“Hey, what’s with the face, baby-girl?” Her mom asked, affectionately ruffling Michelle’s curly hair.

Michelle scowled even more, growling, “Mom! No PDA!” She frantically swiped at her mom’s hand, trying in vain to fix her poofed up hair. “Why are we even here? I _hate_ shopping!”

Her mom rolled her eyes. “I know, kiddo. But I’ll have you know a vintage book store opened up here recently.”

Michelle’s eyes briefly lit up, excitement shining for the briefest of moments. She smiled, toothy and bright, before she remembered she was in public. As quick as it came, her smile disappeared, replaced by her usual expression of total ennui. “That’s cool, I guess.”

Her mom was too wise for that, though. She knew just how excited her daughter was. She missed her bubbly little Michelle, but realized that her ‘baby’ was just entering the early stages of teenage rebellion. Her new ‘too cool to emote’ phase was really getting annoying though.

Luckily for her, her husband returned, arms ladened with the one thing that never failed to get a smile out of Michelle. “You’re lucky, kiddo. They had exactly three scoops of mint-chip left.”

“Sam, I thought we agreed on two scoops!” Her mother whispered, her right eye twitching.

“I know, Cat. But it’s her special day. I thought we could splurge just a little,” he whispered back. “Besides, I haven’t seen her genuinely smile in like, a week.”

Michelle tried as hard as she could to maintain her ‘I don’t give a shit’ expression. But she couldn’t resist the neon green allure of mint-chip ice cream. Each time it touched her tongue she smiled in delight contentment, before realizing that wasn’t ‘cool’ and wiped the smile off her face, only for it to return with the very next spoonful. 

“Teenage ennui is exhausting,” Sam said, passing his wife a cup of strawberry cheesecake ice cream. 

“You can say that again,” Cat agreed, before realizing something extremely important. “Wait, only _two_ scoops!”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yes. And I exercised extreme restraint and only got myself one scoop of rum raisin. We have to set a good example for our kid, after all.”

“Ugh, you and your old man ice cream,” their daughter groaned. 

Sam gasped at the blasphemy. “Child, your favorite ice cream is basically toothpaste with chocolate chunks mixed in.”

“Is not!”

“Is too!” 

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

Cat tuned it out, zoning in on the unrepentant deliciousness of the tart sweetness of strawberries and the smooth creaminess of cheesecake.

The good natured argument between father and daughter was cut short by the entire building being rocked by a distant explosion, screams echoing off the vaulted ceiling of the food court.

A veritable sea of panicked people rushed by the food court in a mad dash to get to the exit. Rather than get caught up in the crush of people, Sam kicked over a nearby table and pulled his family behind it.

“Is it terrorists?” Michelle asked in a panic.

“I dunno, baby,” Sam whispered back.

Flashes of purple light lit up the mall, so bright they shone clearly in the light of the noon-day sun coming through the skylights. People in the back of the crowd dropped, struck down by the mysterious bolts of lilac light. The screaming got even louder, the crowd panicking even more, all rushing out the too-small exits.

Michelle peeked her head out from behind the table, watching in mute horror as dozens of… creatures chased the fleeing masses. They had terrifying skeletal faces, horrific cybernetics protruding from their purplish skin. And what scared Michelle the most was their utter lack of remorse as they shot very lethal looking purple bolts indiscriminately into the crowd, dozens of people falling… seemingly dead.

“Get back, baby!” Her mother whispered as she pulled her back behind the table.

The majority of the crowd had fled by now, thankfully drawing the majority of nightmarish creatures away. The majority… but not all. A few of them remained behind, prowling around the dead bodies.

Except not all of them were dead. Someone poor soul screamed, crawling through the pooled blood, desperate to get away. The screams were punctuated by a bright flash of purple. Michelle gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth as one of the creatures turned to face the new sound.

Her parents held her tight, huddled behind the knocked over table. Hot tears cascaded down Michelle’s cheeks as she heard the rhythmic sound of steps getting closer to their hiding place. She squeezed her eyes closed, preparing herself for the inevitable, thankful that she’d at least be able to spend the last few seconds of her pitifully short life in her parent’s arms.

The end never came. Instead, the walls shook with the roars of some other new terrifying monster. There was a deafening crash, and more bass-y roars, followed by the staccato sounds of the creature’s energy weapons firing. A giant green bulldozed through a nearby wall, charging into the crowd of purplish creatures. They fled in terror, the green monster man in hot pursuit.

“Hey, are you folks alright?” A woman in a leather catsuit said as she crouched next to the huddled family. 

Michelle’s eyes were immediately drawn to her almost garishly read shoulder length hair. Her mom and dad mutely nodded, just a little shocked that they were still alive.

“Good,” the woman said, before she noticed the little kid staring unblinkingly at her. “Hey… hey kid? You okay?”

* * *

“MJ? You okay?” Ned asked, gently shaking her shoulder. “MJ?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’m alright.”

“Good. You kinda… zoned out for a while. I was starting to get worried.” Ned replied.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Michelle noticed the distinct lack of giant space donut hovering over the city. “Where’d the doom-wheel go?”

Ned shrugged, “Back into space, I guess.”

MJ looked around, seeing everyone more or less back into their own seats. Everyone but someone very, very important to her. “Where’s Peter?”

Ned’s eyes widened. “Uh… He’s here somewhere…”

Michelle’s eyes narrowed. Another more thorough look around revealed that, no, he wasn’t. And she had a sinking suspicion as to why. Thankfully, she kept her suspicions to herself. “Wait, why are we still on the bridge?”

“We’re going back to school. Field trip cancelled due to alien invasion.”

That bummed MJ out. Like, a lot. But it did make sense. Aborted or not, alien invasions were always serious. Her eyes widened, suddenly remembering that she really, really should call her parents.

She pulled her phone out of her backpack. Was it kinda dumb to keep her phone in her backpack? Yes, yes probably. But girls jean pockets were already inordinately small, and the fact that she wore 00 size skinny jeans didn’t help. Though, she regretted that decision when she realized her dad had been blowing up her phone for almost twenty minutes, the vibrations probably muffled by the multitude of sketch pads and notebooks. The fact that her dad answered on literally the first ring didn’t help. 

“Hey Dad! Don’t worry, I’m okay. We’re heading back to Midtown-”

“Michelle! About time you answer! Listen, I’m not gonna be able to pick you up-”

Her dad was interrupted by a long low groan in the background, followed by a string of breathy curses.

“I know you’re hurtin’ baby, but I can’t make traffic go any faster-” Her dad said, before he was cut off by an even more aggressive string of curses. 

“Dad, what’s going on?”

“Your mom’s in labor. I’m not gonna be able to pick you up. Can you see if one of your teachers can drop you off at Jamaica Hospital?”

Michelle almost dropped her phone in shock, certainly not expecting that. Well, she should have, considering her mom _was_ thirty-eight weeks pregnant, but like. Still.

“Uh, sure. I’ll meet you as soon as I can.”

“Alright-” he was cut off by another low moan. 

“Focus on driving, dad! I love you!” she said, not wanting her dad to get in a wreck.

“Will do, love you too!” he replied before hanging up.

Michelle forced her Galaxy Note 8 into her too small pocket, looking up to see Ned awkwardly staring at her.

“Hey, um. My mom would be more than happy to give you a ride, MJ.”

“That would be really, really great Nedward.”

* * *

“Thank you so much for the short-notice ride, Mrs. Leeds,” Michelle said as she opened the door to the minivan, stepping out into the hospital parking lot.

“No problem sweetie. Text Ned plenty of baby pictures, and we’ll call it even.” Ned’s mom said from the driver’s seat.

“Wish your mom good luck for us, MJ!” Ned said eagerly.

“Will do, Ned, will do.” Michelle replied, waving shyly as she started fast-walking into the hospital.

Getting to her parent’s hospital room was much, much easier said than done. She couldn’t really blame the hospital staff, really. They were inundated with injured people from the recent, but mercifully brief, alien invasion. But honestly, she didn’t really care, as shitty as that was. She just wanted to be there for her mom! Was that so hard to ask?

Eventually a haggard looking nurse was able to help her find the maternity ward, and from there her parent’s room. Michelle opened the door to find her mom in a hospital gown, bouncing on a big yoga ball. She was leaning heavily on her dad, who looked just a little panicked, but otherwise no worse for wear.

Michelle practically sprinted to her mom’s side, helping her dad support her. “I’m here, mama…”

Her mom moaned, her tense body slowly loosening up. “Oh… good,” she panted, “Right on time.” 

Sam gave his daugher a warm smile, extremely thankful she made it. His wife needed all the support she could get right now, considering she certainly wasn’t getting it from the hospital staff.

He knew it was for a good reason, there were dozens and dozens of people in critical condition, and they certainly did take priority. But still. It was kind of freaking him out that aside from being checked into their room, they hadn’t really had any contact with any of the staff at all. 

But at least Michelle was here now. Together they helped Cat labor, doing everything they could to make it easier on her. It wasn’t much, unfortunately. All they could do was hold her, help her pant through the worst of the contractions, and wait it out. Her mom didn’t want an epidural, but even if she did, Michelle doubted there was anyone to administer one. 

The hours slowly ticked by, until finally Cat recognized a certain kind of pressure. It had been over seventeen years since she had Michelle, but there were some things she could never forget.

“I gotta push,” Cat groaned against her husband’s chest, before taking a deep breath and bearing down.

Before either of her parents could react, Michelle was hammering down the nurse call button. They waited for a full ten minutes, long enough were Michelle was debating leaving and looking for help herself, before an exhausted looking nurse shouldered through the door.

“Oh dear, looks like I made it in the nick of time,” she said snapping on sterile gloves. 

“Wait, what about the doctor?” Sam asked, trying in vain to keep his voice calm.

The nurse shook her head, “They’re all with other patients. I know, I’m sorry, but I’m all you got for now. Don’t worry, I’ve done this more times than I count.”

Michelle and Sam had managed to help Cat into the stirrups themselves, so all the nurse had to do was hike up the hospital gown. Michelle prided herself on her total lack of squeamishness. True crime had fascinated her since she was a kid, and she had no problems looking at the most gruesome of crime scenes. But that being said, even she felt a little faint when the baby’s head started to crown. 

“Good job, keep pushing, sweetheart!” The nurse encouraged. 

“You’re doing so well, baby.” Sam whispered in his wife’s ear. 

Cat groaned as she bore down again, practically screeching as the head slowly emerged.

“Almost done, mama…” Michelle whispered, trying to keep it together. Good lord, there was her little sibling's whole head just… there between her mom’s thighs. 

All Cat could do was nod and push with another labor pain, working on the shoulders now. She pushed over and over, but still… no shoulders.

Michelle was starting to panic, but tried her best to keep it together for her mother’s sake.

The nurse’s brow furrowed. “Okay, looks like a shoulder dystocia. Don’t worry, we’ll get that baby out, you just have to push really, really hard for me, okay sweetheart?”

Michelle’s mom groaned, “That’s what I’ve been doing!”

“I know, I know, but I have to… to…” The nurse trailed off.

Michelle watched in mute horror as the nurse literally broke down into a dull brown dust. Then it hit her. A kind of… horrible nauseousness and agonizing burning all over her body.

“Ma-” She screamed, reaching out for her mother, even as her arm began to disintegrate. And then, abruptly, terribly… mercifully... Everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's no secret I really, REALLY don't like how Far From Home dealt with the Snap and it's aftermath. I even started writing a 'Far From Home rewrite' fic to address it. But I abandoned that pretty quickly because the premise of rewriting the entire movie quickly became boring. But I still wanna right about a more realistic Snap. Hence this incredibly depressing fic. Oh, for those wondering about my other story, the Euphoria/Marvel crossover, I'm still working on that one, but I'm having real trouble with the last chapter of 'Season 1'. I'm kinda sorta almost done with it though, so for those who care, keep a weather eye out.


	2. Dust, Undusted.

Darkness, void, nothing… and then suddenly without warning- form, feeling, breath… life…

“-Ma!” Michelle screamed, arm outstretched. 

She expected to see mom on the bed, her dad holding her mom’s hand. But there was no one on the bed. No one next to it. The chair her dad was sitting in wasn’t even in the right spot.

“Don’t worry sweetheart! We’ll get your baby… out?” The nurse was back too, apparently.

Wait… back? Michelle tried to remember the last thing that happened to her. She was here with her parents… her mom was having trouble bringing her baby sister into the world. The nurse turned to ash! She only had a second to freak out then... Then… Nausea and blinding pain… And… And she remembered watching her arm dissolve into dust! And then nothing… She stared at her trembling hands for a minute, trying to- to not freak out. Then she felt someone shaking her shoulders.

“Hey, hey kid? You okay? Come on, we’ll figure this out together.” 

Michelle looked up to see the confused but also concerned face of the nurse. Numbly, Michelle nodded and followed the nurse out of the room. They walked into a hall in chaos. It looked like there were others in the same boat as them. Patients and staff alike wandered the halls, trying in vain to find answers.

She couldn’t take the sea of people, so Michelle wandered away, trying to find a somewhat secluded place to piece it all together. Her phone was no help. It had no service for some reason, despite her parent’s paying the bill just a few days ago. Eventually she wandered her way into a somewhat empty waiting room. There was a TV mounted on the wall, Michelle giving it a glance out of habit. It was muted so she couldn’t tell what the pundits were screaming about, but she could read the ticker crawl at the bottom just fine.

**ALIEN SPACESHIP SPOTTED OVER UPSTATE NEW YORK! VANISHED RETURNED? MORE AT 11!**

* * *

Peter knelt and laid a bouquet of flowers at the private memorial of his mentor. It was fenced off, secured in a massive new cemetery. Forest Park was shut down and repurposed into a massive graveyard, exclusively meant for those who died in the aftermath of... Well… The media called it the Vanishing. Millions gone, who weren’t coming back… Peter thought it wasn’t exactly proper to have Tony’s private memorial surrounded by people he couldn’t save… but apparently it was what he wished for in his will.

There was a public memorial in downtown Manhattan, and he had of course laid flowers there too. But they were quickly swallowed up by a sea of other bouquets left by thousands of thousands of mourners. At least here… his could stand out. There were others there too, left from earlier in the day. He recognized Morgan and Pepper’s, Happy, Rhodey, Steve’s, Sam’s… even Mr. Barnes left one.

He got up, dusting off his pants. Sighing to himself, he closed the electronically secured gate. He walked through rows and rows of plain memorial stones. So many people died in such a short period of time that there wasn’t time for any personalized memorial plaques to be made. All they did was convey the most basic information: name, date of birth, and date of death. The vast overwhelming majority all had the same death date. But a good percentage didn’t. So many people couldn’t take the loss of their loved ones and… chose to end their own lives. 

He trudged through the sea of death, an ocean of grief, his enhanced senses not letting him tune anything out. Every time his eyes drifted over memorial stone, he read the inscriptions in perfect clarity. He could hear the sobs, the cries of anguish of every single one of the thousands of mourners in a two hundred foot radius around him. He could even hear their heartbeats, the irregular staccatos of grief stricken hearts.

Speaking of heartbeats… his superhuman ears picked up the sound of an especially irregular heartbeat. Some skipped beats and general irregularity was normal when someone was incredibly sad, but this was something else. It was the sound of someone panicking, extreme palpitations that were honestly dangerous. Whoever it was, they weren’t breathing, not really. They gasped in short breaths, choking out their exhales. That convinced him.

Ignoring the indignant looks of the mourners he shoulder by, he took off in a sprint toward the vague direction of the panicked heartbeat. Just because he was out of his suit didn’t mean he could ignore someone in trouble. In all likelihood, he was the only one who could even recognize something was wrong.

Eventually he came upon someone sitting on the ground in front of a pair of memorial plaques. They had their knees tucked up into their chest, hugging their own legs for dear life. Their face was buried in their legs, but he recognized her curly hair and black denim jacket anywhere. 

“MJ? MJ!” Peter knelt next to her, gently shaking her shoulder. “Hey, hey… look at me… MJ? It’s me, Peter…”

Michelle looked up, looking for the source of the familiar voice. “P-peter?”

“Yeah. Hey, you need to breathe okay? Count to ten with me.” Peter breathed in, a slow deep breath. “One,” then exhaled, slow and steady.

Michelle shakily took as deep a breath as she could. “One,” then exhaled, too fast for Peter’s liking, but at least she was breathing now.

Peter inhaled again, “Two,” and again exhaled slowly.

They breathed together, counting up to ten. Michelle was breathing more or less normally, and her heart rate had slowed and returned to some semblance of normal, before it all came crashing down again.

She gasped again, her eyes welling up, before she let out a choked sob. Michelle threw her arms around Peter’s shoulder’s, buried her face in his neck, and let out all the confusion, the agony, the grief. There was no one left in the world she trusted to open up to. At least, that was what she thought. Then Peter found her, and the bottle she had stuffed all her emotions into finally broke.

When Michelle came apart at the seams in his arms, Peter didn’t know what to do at first. He had only known Michelle as stoic and aloof, her emotions only showing themselves in the briefest of moments. Really, the only thing he could do was hold her and let her grieve. So he did.

Eventually his curiosity got the better of him, and he turned his head slightly to look at the plaques Michelle was grieving for. His eyes were drawn to the one on the left.

**SAMUEL A. JONES**

**January 6, 1982 - October 26, 2018**

His eyes widened, and with growing horror, he couldn’t help but look at the plaque it was paired with.

**CATHERINE E. JONES**

**May 8, 1983 - April 26, 2018**

He thought that was the worst of it. It was awful. Michelle lost both her parents, it was horrific, tragic beyond belief. And he wished that was it, that he didn’t wonder why the plaque was slightly bigger than the standard ones and look down to see why. 

**LYNN D. JONES**

**Born Still: April 26, 2018**

It was his fault. A father who couldn’t take the loss of his entire family, a mother dying trying to bring her baby into the world… It was _his fault._ “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” Peter repeated over and over, between choked sobs.

Michelle assumed he was just feeling bad for her. Sure, he might be getting just a tad over emotional, but Peter had always been an incredibly empathetic person. It was one of the things she loved about him. 

They held each other for a long, long time. The afternoon sun began to set, and eventually a very distraught May found them together. Their tear ducts had long since run dry, their diaphragms exhausted to the point that they couldn’t sob anymore. They just held each other, the silence broken only by the occasional sniffle. 

* * *

Anyone who knew May even in the most superficial sense of the word, knew that she was an extraordinarily generous and caring person. So much so that her best trait was almost a flaw. Actually, looking back at the long string of former friends, lovers, and even the occasional family member that all took advantage of her ‘best trait’, she knew it definitely was a flaw.

But she’d like to think that forty-five years of experience had taught her when to give and exactly how much. That, and her relationship with Ben. In fact, it was probably mostly Ben. When they first met, she was in the process of tearing apart her own life for the sake of people who probably didn’t deserve it. He saw what was happening, and helped her see it too. 

Anyway, the point is, she felt like by now she knew how to balance her own wellbeing and her generous nature. At least, she thought she did… until she saw Peter and Michelle clutching each other for dear life. She saw the plaques in front of them and tried not to fall apart herself when she put the pieces together. A very drastic decision was made then. She couldn’t let the poor girl navigate a horrific and chaotic world almost totally alone. To that end, she and the kids were driving to one of the many storage units set up for the ‘vanished’. Michelle would be staying with them, and that was that.

Even though she struggled to care for one kid, let alone two. Sure, she was a doctor, but she specialized in pediatric care. That didn’t pay nearly as much as say, a surgical specialization.. Plus, she provided charity care almost exclusively, and did much more work pro bono than most doctors. That meant, well, she didn’t get paid nearly as much as her more… conventional colleagues. 

She adjusted the rear view mirror. Peter’s head was leaning on Michelle’s shoulder, and in turn, her head was leaning on his. Gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white, she wrestled with her own conscience. What use would it be to take Michelle in if she couldn’t adequately provide for her? But… the world was in flux right now. So many people needed quality hospital care right now, and fewer people than ever could afford it. And moreover, what example would that set to the kids in her care if she took every avenue to make more money? Sure, she’d be able to take care of them adequately, but what lessons would they learn from that? That it was okay to take advantage of extremely vulnerable people so long as you can take care of those closest to you?

No. No, she wouldn’t leave Michelle to fend for herself. She wouldn’t compromise her own values. She wouldn’t teach them the wrong lessons. She’d do what she always did. Work harder and somehow make it by the skin of her teeth. It worked for her so far, there was no reason it wouldn’t keep working now.

May steered her old clunker of a toyota into the E-Z storage parking lot. “Hey, time to wake up!”

The teens in the back seat stirred, waking up to realize just how close they were. They immediately shuffled apart, cheeks flushed. May smiled to herself. Young love… young, naive, love…

Michelle swallowed nervously when she realized where she was. When May asked her if she wanted to stay with them, she nodded yes because… because… well, she didn’t know why. “Um, you don’t have to-”

“No,” May cut her off, turning around to look her in the eye. “Don’t start this. Unless you have people you trust that you’d rather stay with?”

“No… I don’t. But I really shouldn’t impose-” Michelle tried to continue.

Peter took her hand, the sudden contact shocking her into silence. “You need help. We’re offering,” he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

Cheeks burning, Michelle finally nodded, “Okay… just until I get on my feet.”

May’s ensuing smile was so impossibly bright and bubbly that Michelle thought it might just be visible from space. 

Together, they loaded everything Michelle truly cared about into the small trunk of the hatchback. She didn’t take much, restricting herself to taking just a couple decent outfits, her school stuff, her art pens and pencils and a couple mostly unused sketch books. They didn’t even touch Michelle’s parents storage units, knowing she wasn’t emotionally prepared for it. She might never be, and May fully knew that when she set up automatic payment for the units. 

* * *

The three of them had barely finished getting Michelle settled into their small three bedroom apartment, when May’s phone rang incessantly.

“Looks like they need me at the hospital tonight,” May said after she changed into her scrubs. “I might not be back until morning. Maybe even later.” She kissed Peter’s forehead, and squeezed Michelle’s shoulder reassuringly. “Take care of each other while I’m gone, okay?”

The nervous nods they gave her seemed to placate her. And just like that, Peter and Michelle were alone. In the apartment. Together.

“So um… Well…” Peter began.

“Have you found Ned?” Michelle asked, desperate to try to avoid an awkward silence.

Peter shook his head, “No, not yet. Between looking for May and getting ourselves settled in our new apartment, I haven’t had time.”

Michelle’s brow furrowed. She did wonder why the apartment looked barely moved into. “New apartment?”

Peter nodded, “Yeah. May and I… vanished. And when we came back, our apartment had been rented out to another family. We got really lucky when we found this place.”

Yes, ‘luckily’ for them, Pepper stepped in and managed to find them a pretty good three bedroom replacement. She offered to pay for an entire couple years worth of rent, but May wouldn’t have any of it. Pepper wouldn’t take no for an answer, however, and managed to convince May to let her pay for the first six months. 

Of course, he couldn’t let MJ know that. 

Michelle didn’t know what to say, and just like that, the dreaded silence she was trying to avoid settled over them like a suffocating blanket.

“Uh… is the TV set up?” Michelle managed through her nervousness.

“Yeah, but our internet isn’t set up yet, so no streaming services… Oh, but I did find this earlier today,” Peter said, walking over to a nearby box and retrieving a box set of the first four seasons of Steven Universe. He bought it a whim a few months before the Vanishing, never finding the time to watch it. Until now.

Michelle shrugged, “Sure, I’ve heard good things about it.”

It only took a few episodes for Peter to realize that maybe it wasn’t the best show for MJ to be watching right now. The fact that the main character’s mom was dead, and that the show was mostly about the relationships between family and friends… he thought it might be hard for her to watch right now. 

“Uh, do you wanna watch something else?” He asked after a couple episodes.

MJ looked at him like he was crazy. “No, this show is great! Unless you wanna watch something else?”

Peter shook his head, “Oh, no I was just… nevermind.”

Michelle knew why he asked. He thought the show would make her feel uncomfortable, and it did just a little bit. But for some reason, it was also kinda therapeutic in a way. Two hours later, and she was introduced to the amazingly chaotic energy that was… Onion.

“Peter!” 

“Yeah?”

“We have to finish this show.”

“I mean, okay,” Peter agreed. “But uh, maybe we should go to bed? It is currently,” he checked his phone’s clock. “Eleven at night.”

Michelle yawned, “Okay, yeah, you got a point.”

“So um, you can take my bed, at least until we get a mattress for the spare bedroom.”

“Oh, there’s no way I’m kicking you outta your own bed, Parker.”

Peter sighed. They were gonna argue about this all night weren’t they? Unless… “Rock, paper, scissors for it!”

“Oh, you’re on!”

Peter won. Well, he did kinda predict what MJ would do based on small muscle cues that only someone with superhuman perception could see. But that was beside the point.

“Best two out of three!” MJ challenged.

And again, Peter won.

“Oh, guess I gotta take the couch then,” Michelle smirked.

“Wait, but I won!” 

“Yes, Peter. We played rock paper scissors for your bed, and _you won_.”

Peter gaped like a fish, before snapping his mouth closed. “Fine.”


	3. The Lies We Tell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Very dark intro scene involving the death of a mother and baby. Please, PLEASE don't read it if it'll hurt you. No fanfic is worth ACTUAL emotional pain.

“Michelle!  _ Baby! _ !” Cat cried as her daughter literally dissolved next to her. 

Michelle’s dad cried out, desperately trying to grab his daughter as she crumbled into dark brown dust. “No! NO!”

“I-I’m here! I’m right here!” Michelle called out, and tried to grab her mother’s shoulders to reassure her. Her hands passed right through… like she wasn’t even there. She tried to grab her father’s outstretched hands. And just like with her mom, she phased right through, like she was… she was a ghost or something.

Sam would have kept panicking about his disintegrated daughter, if it weren’t for Cat’s groans of agony. The baby… his new daughter, she wasn’t even born yet. He got between his wife’s legs, trying not to pass out at the sight of all the blood…

“Keep pushing, baby!” Sam cried.

“Go on, mamma! You can do it!” Michelle tried to encourage her, but of course, her mom couldn’t hear her... 

Cat tucked her chin to her chest, and pushed as hard as she could. Her groans were so loud that they sounded through the open door of the maternity suite and down the hall. Her efforts were futile. The baby was still stuck.

Sam had no idea what he was doing, all he could do was support the baby’s head and try not to panic as more blood pooled down the bed. 

“Come on, baby! Again… please, again!” 

“Please, mama, please… d-don’t give up!” Michelle sobbed. It was literally all she could do. Her mom and dad couldn’t hear her. She couldn’t even hold her mother’s hand.

Cat gasped, panting to try and regain her breath. She was so, so tired, but again, she gave it her all. And again, the baby didn’t move at all.

All Michelle could do was stare in horror as her mother slowly exhausted herself, slowly bled to death…

Eventually a team of nurses found their way into the maternity suite, and took over for Michelle’s distraught dad. They were able to finally get the baby out, using methods that were so… Michelle couldn’t even look. What she did see was so bad that if her mother was awake, she’d surely be shrieking in agony.

But she wasn’t awake. She’d passed out from blood loss… and was probably dying. As Michelle cried out in horror, as her father curled up in an overwhelmed ball in the corner, they wrenched her baby sister out of her mother.

They flopped her pale blue, lifelessly limp baby sister onto Cat’s stomach and desperately tried to resuscitate her. It didn’t work. Nothing they did worked! To their credit, they didn’t give up… but…

Sam huddled in the corner, out of the way so the team of nurses could work, hugging his own knees as everything they did seemed futile. They moved the lifeless baby onto a nearby table as they kept trying to resuscitate her, while another nurse came back with a defibrillator. 

“Clear!” They shouted as they applied the paddles to his wife’s lifeless body. She shook and tensed, but the heart rate monitor still droned on with its shrill tone indicating no pulse. They kept trying, over and over again.

Michelle sobbed over her mother’s body, until she felt something grab her wrist. She looked up, to see her mother awake and looking her in the eye. But something was still wrong. The heart rate monitor still droned on without a pulse.

“MJ, you have to wake up… It’s okay, you just have to wake up…” Cat whispered, before slowly closing her eyes, her hand dropping from Michelle’s wrist.

* * *

Peter slept very unsoundly, tossing and turning all night. He had no idea why. After today, he was totally exhausted. Eventually, he slowly started to drift off. Unfortunately, right as his mind began to sink into the mire of sleep, his heightened hearing picked up something.

An arrhythmic staccato ‘thump-thump-thumpity-thump-thumpthumpthump’ had his eyes shooting open in an instant. It sounded just like-

He bolted upright, just as the screaming started. He jumped out of bed, basically running into the living room. In the dim light of the closed shades, he clearly saw Michelle thrashing around on his couch. She had kicked off her blankets, her hands grasping at… something. What unnerved him the most was her eyes were open, flickering around the room in a panic.

“ _ Mama! Mama please, no! Mama! MAMA! _ ” she shrieked, over and over again. 

Peter knelt down next to her, grabbed her wrists and used his immense strength to hold them close to her chest.

“MJ, you have to wake up! It’s okay, you just have to wake up!” He all but shouted, wincing at the sound of his shrill panicked voice.

To Peter's immense relief, her eyes slowly started to focus.

She stared at an unfamiliar ceiling, before her eyes scanned the darkened room, and all at once she remembered the events of the past week. Michelle gasped, panting briefly, before the sobbing started.

Peter carefully wrapped his arms around her torso, letting her sob against his body.

He held her close, letting her sob into the crook of his neck for what seemed like hours, Michelle’s tears finally drying up even though the heaving sobs remained.

“Don’t leave! P-please d-d-don’t lea-eave,” Michelle sobbed, her poor body still shaking.

“I won’t. Never,” Peter reassured her.

Michelle gulped back her sobs, “I-I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, MJ.”

“B-but I wo-oke you u-up,” she countered.

Peter almost laughed, almost. “I wasn’t sleeping very well anyway. Besides, you’re more important. C-can I ask, what was the nightmare about?” He had a pretty good idea about what it was about, but he thought maybe if MJ talked about it, she'd feel kinda better?

Michelle gulped, took a moment to compose herself, and explained the worst nightmare she’s ever had in her entire life. 

Peter nodded, trying to stay calm through her story, but it honestly, it took all of his will not to break down in tears.

“Oh, MJ… It’s not real. It’s just a dream.”

She slowly nodded, “Yeah, I know. But… It doesn’t feel any less real. Like, that- that could have very well happened…”

“Or it could have gone down totally differently. Through no fault of your own, you weren’t there. You don’t know if it was that bad or not…” Peter could hear how hollow his own words were.

Michelle nodded, “Yeah, I don't know... I guess I never will.”

Peter held her close again. “And that’s okay. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it’s okay.”

MJ nodded, opening her mouth as if she was going to say something, before closing it. She got a thoughtful look on her face, opened her mouth again, then shut it just as quickly.

“...Yes?” Peter asked.

MJ bit her lip, seriously contemplating something before seemingly deciding to just go for it. “I… I don’t think I can sleep on my own. C-can we sleep togeth- I mean, share your bed?” She was gonna say ‘sleep together’ before she realized the connotations.

Peter shrugged, “Sure.”

They laid down together in Peter’s too-small twin bed. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, so to give her space, Peter was basically half falling out of his own bed. Likewise, Michelle was pressed up against his wall.

They tried to sleep like that for almost an hour, before giving up. Almost as if they had the same idea, they turned towards each other, scooching closer together. Turning toward each other, they were so close that their noses were almost touching. It made it so easy for Michelle to lean forward just a little bit and give Peter a quick peck on the lips. 

She instantly pulled back, her face heating. Why had she done that? That was so fucking stupid and out of the blue-

Her thoughts were interrupted when Peter leaned forward this time, his lips softly brushing against hers. She kissed him back on pure instinct, their lips clumsily pressed together. It wasn’t elegant or anything, but first kisses hardly ever were. They both pulled back after a few moments, blushing furiously. 

Peter smiled, and slowly planted a kiss on Michelle’s forehead. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she whispered back, snuggling up against him.

Peter went more on his back, lightly pulling Michelle into his embrace. She nuzzled herself into the crook of his arm, laying her head on his chest. 

Slowly, she started to drift off, lulled by Peter’s ever present heartbeat. In turn, Peter slowly fell asleep to the slight floral and citrus scent of MJ’s hair...

* * *

May fumbled with her keys as she opened the apartment door. Fuck, had work been difficult. Well, work had always been hard since she Returned. But for some reason, tonight was especially bad. She alone had to handle four patients who were presenting to the emergency room with OD symptoms. Another three suicide attempts. Six people in four different drunk driving collisions… it was mayhem, total fucking mayhem.

But somehow, through a single exhausting fourteen hour shift, May was able to stabilize them all and get them on the road to some semblance of recovery. She actually wanted to stay longer, to see them through, but several of her colleagues all insisted that she go home, that they had this now. So, by one in the afternoon, she finally hobbled into her apartment. To her surprise, she found Michelle in their small kitchen, cooking away. 

The enterprising teen looked up from whatever she was currently chopping, “Oh! Hi… Mrs. Parker. Um. I hope you don’t mind, but uh, I just thought I should cook something cuz like…” She had no idea where she was going with that statement, and let it die it's awkward death.

“First off, thank you so much for cooking, it's one more thing I don’t have to worry about today. Secondly, call me May. And thirdly, where’s Peter?”

Michelle went back to chopping away. “Uh, Peter’s still asleep. We- um,  _ he _ had a long night.” She tried to catch herself, but ended up making it sound even more like she was hiding something.

May set her handbag on the kitchen table, one eyebrow raised. “Really? Well, I uh, I don’t have any problems with you two having a relationship, but don’t you think its a bit fast-”

Michelle’s eyes almost popped out of her head, “No! No, it wasn’t like that at all. I um… I had a really intense nightmare last night and I… I just needed to be with someone I trust. I mean- not like that. We just slept together! I mean, not in that way! We just shared a bed. Platonically.” And they made out.  _ Totally platonically _ .

“Oh, child, don’t have a heart attack now. Lord knows, I can’t deal with another patient right now. I understand, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Michelle sighed in relief, and went back to cooking whatever it was she was cooking. May got curious, and sat at the kitchen bar to observe. Michelle looked to be in the process of slicing mushrooms, had already grated a huge mound of parmesian, had a large pot of water on the main burner, and had four eggs on standby in a small bowl nearby.

May’s mind put the pieces together rather quickly. “You’re cooking… carbonara? Vegetarian carbonara, by the looks of those mushrooms.”

Michelle nodded, clearly surprised, “Yeah, how did you know? Also, I hope you don’t mind. I’m vegetarian by um… principle.”

May shrugged, “Honey, I’m Italian. I know carbonara ingredients like the back of my hand.” Cooking it herself, however, was a  _ totally _ different story. There was a reason Peter and May ate out nearly every single day. “As for your vegetarian preference, I don’t have an issue. I don’t think Peter will either. We don’t eat much meat in this house, anyway.”

“Oh, please don’t think you have to go vegetarian on my behalf,” Michelle protested.

“It would be easier that way, though. And cheaper. I can’t speak for Peter, but I’m willing to try converting.”

Michelle huffed, it looked like she wanted to say something, but she quickly distracted herself by finishing chopping the mushrooms.

“So, any reason for veggie carbonara?”

“Uh,” Michelle sighed, “not really. Other than that, it's the best comfort food I know.”

May nodded slowly. Of course Michelle needed comforting, after what happened to her…

Michelle slowly kept working, finishing off the mushrooms before starting to mince a couple cloves of garlic. She paused in obvious thought.

“Um, May? You-you wouldn’t happen to know what a shoulder dystocia is?”

May’s eyes widened. “Oh, honey, were you there with your mom when you…”

Michelle nodded, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Y-yeah… The nurse had just called that when… when…” she gulped, trying to keep herself from outright sobbing.

May got up, walked around the kitchen bar and hugged the distraught girl. She took a deep breath and explained what she knew. It had been a long time since her residency. She wasn’t an OBGYN, and though she had delivered a few babies in her time, it had been a while. But even still, she knew what Michelle was asking about.

“Shoulder dystocia is when the baby’s shoulder gets caught behind the mother’s pelvis. It can be fairly dangerous, but most qualified professionals know how to safely help a mother through it.”

Michelle leaned into May’s embrace. “A-and if there isn’t? A qualified professional, I-I mean.”

May sighed, debating if she really should be telling her this. She decided that Michelle would probably look it up on her own, and most likely not have someone there to help her deal with the information. “It-it can be fatal, if it isn’t dealt with properly.”

“D-did she die in-in pain?” Michelle asked, the sobs starting to wrack her slender body.

May held her ever closer. “It- you- there’s nothing you could have done sweetheart. There’s nothing anyone could have done. You shouldn’t torture yourself by thinking about this.”

Michelle broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. May thought fast, and turned off the burner under the pot of water, just as she got weighed down with a distraught teenage girl. 

“It’s okay to hurt, sweetie. Just… you shouldn’t go looking for more reasons to hurt, okay?” May asked as Michelle slowly, ever so slowly calmed down.

“O-okay… I’m gonna finish cooking now…”

May laughed, and helped Michelle up. She tried her best to help Michelle with the cooking, but Lord, she was hopeless in a kitchen.

Half an hour later, they had a huge platter of vegetarian carbonara on the kitchen counter, deliciously scented wafts of steam curling from the still hot pasta.

“Uh… is Peter okay?” Michelle asked as she used a carving fork to make a nest of pasta on her plate.

May nodded between bites of pasta. “Yes… well, maybe. What time did you two get to sleep last night?”

Michelle shrugged, “Uh, it was around 5 am I think?”

“Then he should be getting up soon. He sleeps for a long time, most teenage boys do.” May replied. Of course, she knew it was because his powers altered his metabolism, making him require ten to twelve hours of sleep. But she couldn’t let Michelle know that.

“Oh, I thought it was because he’s Spider-man.” 

May dropped her fork into her pasta mid bite. “Uh- no, no! What could possibly make you think-”

“He keeps his suit hanging from his closet in plain sight. And I know they aren’t fancy pajamas, because there’s also this big glass cabinet that has particles that swirl in the vague shape of a spider-suit. And it was just there... sitting on his bedroom floor.” Michelle said, totally deadpan.

May pinched the bridge of her nose, “How many times have I told him to not keep those things out in the open…”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” Michelle said with just the hint of a smile.

“Won’t tell anyone what? Also, what smells so good?” Peter asked, blearily itching the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hands.

“I won’t tell anyone you’re Spider-man, and vegetarian carbonara.” 

Peter straightened up, suddenly fully awake. He turned on his heel, marching back into his room. May and Michelle could hear the sound of a closet door being angrily shut. Then after a beat, they heard the unmistakable sound of it being shamefully opened again, the sound of Peter grunting as he lifted something heavy, a couple heavy footfalls, the thud of something heavy being unceremoniously put on floor of the closet, and finally another sound of the same closet being angrily shut.

“I’ve told you a thousand times you have to hide your suits better,” May said with a smirk.

Peter replied with a groan, “Yeah, I know. I’ve gotten lazy since you found out. That, and we just moved in and things are…” he vaguely gesticulated towards the masses of still unpacked boxes, “chaotic.”

May slurped up the last few of her noodles. “Well, while I’d love to moderate the impending discussion, I have been awake for,” May checked her phone, “almost thirty hours, and I just ate a heavy pasta course so… I’m going to bed!”

* * *

And with that, Michelle and Peter were left alone… to talk about… things…

Peter plated himself up a hearty portion of pasta, and ate in an awkward silence. That is, until MJ broke it.

“So my boyfriend is Spider-man.”

Peter almost choked on his pasta, before replying, “Boyfriend?”

“Oh,” MJ’s eyes went about as wide as the dinner plate Peter was eating off of, “sorry, I uh, I just kind of assumed since…”

“No, no. I’m not denying it. I’m just surprised you wanna make it that… official.”

“Peter,” MJ said in exasperation, “I’ve had a crush on you since we first met in freshman year. Remember that one time in Acadec practice? ‘I’m not obsessed with him, I’m just very observant’? Well, I thought it was fairly obvious I was- am- both?”

“Oh,” Peter said weakly, “ _ Oh… _ I am so sorry about the Liz thing.”

MJ scoffed, “Oh, honey, don’t be. It was  _ hilarious _ for me to watch you flounder through that- oh shit, you put her dad away…”

“ _ Yeah _ there was no way that relationship was gonna work after that. I’m glad she ended it when she did…” Peter sighed, reminiscing. “You know, I was- am- way more interested in you than I ever was her?” 

MJ blinked, “Don’t lie.”

Peter stared at her for a second. That deadpan exasperation… it was almost like he got the old MJ back… almost.“It’s the truth! I only asked her out because you were way more intimidating!” That, and he just kinda asked Liz out after awkwardly apologizing for not being there for her during Decathlon… and that whole thing with the Washington monument. Well, he was there for that thing, but like. He could never tell her. He was shocked out of his reverie by MJ’s sudden outburst.

“ _ I’m more intimidating!? _ ” MJ all but shouted, “Liz was gorgeous! Popular! Everyone wanted her!”

“Yeah but… well, she wasn't like you. I thought you were- are- so cool, very aloof, effortlessly pretty, and like, so smart that I feel like a blithering idiot when I'm around you. Like I said, intimidating. And it didn't help that you barely talked to Ned and I, so…”

MJ pinched her nose, “I’m such an awkward moron… And you’re even more of a moron! I barely talked to you because I was too nervous! You were the intimidating one, not me!”

“I’m the intimidating one? Really?” Peter asked.

“Oh my god, you're more dense than a black hole…” Michelle took a deep breath. “Peter. You are… beyond hot. Have you realized your own musculature?! Like, girls  _ fantasized _ about you in the locker rooms. And you’re tied with Ned as the smartest guy in school. Those two factors alone make you one of  _ the _ most sought after guys in Midtown!”

That took Peter aback. He couldn’t be… really? He always thought his nerdiness put girls off... But then again… Maybe Liz agreed to go out with him because  _ he _ was quite the catch? He always assumed Liz agreed because she pitied him or out of convenience. It never quite occurred to him that Liz was honestly interested in him, for him.

Peter stuffed his face with another few forkfuls of delicious, delicious carbonara before taking his time to chew and swallow. It was his way of stalling, and letting MJ know that he wanted to change the subject without outright saying it.

“So… my boyfriend is Spider-man,” MJ repeated, “should I be concerned?”

Peter paused, “Yes? No? Kinda? I mean, I normally don’t do anything  _ too  _ dangerous.” He stared off into the middle distance for a while, remembering the whole Titan thing, then getting turned to dust, then coming back only to fight for his very life in the final battle for the fate of the universe. “Normally.”

“What does that mean?” 

“Okay,” Peter sighed, “I sometimes,  _ sometimes _ get called in,” or accidentally fall into, “Avenger level stuff. But, since the whole Thanos thing, I'm gonna try to get myself off their call list.”

“Thanos?” Michelle asked.

Oh boy. How did she not know? Between the Avenger’s press releases after the Return, and the subsequent coverage by every single news outlet, how did she not know? Well, she’d have to know somehow… 

“So um… Very long story made ever so shorter,” Peter paused to take in a breath, “Thanos was a… well, they called him the Mad Titan. Basically, he saw his planet die due to overpopulation and spent the majority of his life on a genocidal crusade to kill half of all life in the universe.”

“He’s the reason why I, why so many people…” MJ’s eyes misted up again.

“Yeah…” 

“How did he kill… and how did we come back?” MJ asked, her voice cracking.

Peter bit his lip, “So… I can’t tell you exactly how. It's an international secret. What I can tell you is that we- the Avengers undid everything he did, and stopped him when he came back to undo what they did.” He hoped that made sense.

“How did you beat him?” MJ asked, the realization that Peter was actually there slowly dawning on her.

“Mr. Stark- Tony, he… he…” It was Peter’s turn to tear up. “He died to stop Thanos, and his entire army, for good.”

“You _were_ there,” MJ whispered.

Peter could only nod.

MJ got a… Peter could only describe it as a murderous look in her eye.

“Did he suffer? Thanos, I mean.” 

Peter looked slightly aghast. “D-does it matter?”

“I spent the last week thinking about how my entire family was taken from me. Now I know who was responsible,” MJ growled. “And now I know I can’t kill him myself.” Not that MJ could have ever done it, of course. But it did kinda feel good to know who was responsible. It felt better to fantasize about skinning Thanos alive, even though she had no idea what he looked like.

Peter didn’t like how angry MJ was getting. He probably shouldn’t say it, but he did anyway. “Do you remember what it was like,” Peter asked, “getting turned to dust?” Peter remembered, of course. A terrible nausea, followed by the briefest feeling of every nerve in his body was catching on fire, then darkness.

“Yes.” MJ replied with gritted teeth.

“He died like that.”

MJ ground her teeth so hard Peter was afraid they’d chip. “Then it wasn’t nearly as bad as he deserved.”

“But he’s gone. And we’re not. And that’s all that-”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ say ‘that’s all that matters’! My parents! My-my baby sister… they aren’t here… and they aren’t coming back… because of him!” For the fourth time in twenty four hours, MJ broke down over her lost family. “I-its not fai-air! W-why do I get to co-ome back, b-but they… th-they have to…” She sobbed against Peter’s chest. “I wish I never came back…”

Peter’s breath hitched. He wanted to reassure her, to tell her that he was so glad that she did… but he realized that was… actually pretty shitty and selfish. He didn’t know what to say… And all of the sudden, Titan was all he could think about, as much as he tried not to.

“It’s my fault,” Peter gasped. “I-I fought him. On Titan. We lost… but I-I was s-so close to stopping him… If I had been stronger… or faster…”

MJ pulled her face away from his chest. No… nononono… She’d just thoughtlessly waylaid him with all of her guilt and pain, and worse, put  _ all _ that guilt and pain squarely on  _ his _ shoulders.

“No, baby,” MJ whispered, “It’s not your fault, Peter. It’s not your fault that I… I feel like this… Please, please, Peter, please don’t blame yourself.” She kissed his forehead, “I’m sorry I… I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty.”

Peter knew, believe him, he knew how it didn’t make sense to blame himself. It didn’t make any difference, though. All he could think about was the… the millions of people who didn’t have to die, who would be here right now if he’d just been… better.

MJ grabbed Peter’s face, and stared him in the eye. He wasn’t seeing her, she could tell. He was looking past her, reliving trauma. “Look at me, Peter,” she whispered. 

All he could see was the battle on Titan, replayed over and over in his head. Until MJ whispered, and he stopped looking past her and finally saw her. “I am.”

MJ pressed her forehead against his. “I… I’m hurting right now, Peter. A lot. And… I guess I do kinda wish I hadn’t come back… but… I’m also glad I did. Because if I  _ have  _ to be here, I’m glad I’m here with you. And that’s not all that matters, not yet. But I think… I think it will be, eventually.” 

She paused to brush her lips against his. MJ hated herself for it… but she was lying, to herself as much as to him. She… she didn’t know for certain if she loved Peter, but she was  _ fairly _ certain she did. And she hoped,  _ desperately hoped,  _ that it would eventually override the ever present ache left over by the loss of her family. But if she was being honest with herself, she knew it wouldn’t.

Peter knew she was lying through her teeth. He knew from her body language. He knew from the way her heart stuttered. He knew, but he nodded along anyway. He nodded along, whispered he was okay, even though he still blamed himself. He would  _ always _ blame himself. But maybe, he could pretend like he didn’t, so MJ wouldn’t hurt even more.

They were… so fucked up. So very, very fucked up. They both knew they were lying to each other. But maybe, just maybe, if they lied enough, they’d actually start to believe it.


	4. Are We Allowed to Be Happy Yet?

What began as a comforting kiss quickly became hot and heavy as both Peter and MJ leaned their bodies into each other. Peter pulled back and kissed MJ’s jaw, sucking very lightly before kissing a path down her neck and to the crook where her neck met her shoulder.

Michelle never really ‘got’ making out, or butterfly kisses. It just seemed weird to her. But looking back, it was probably because she’d never experienced them before. And now that she was, oh boy, was she a believer. She sighed, leaning into the experience literally and figuratively.

Their hands roamed over each other’s bodies, not going anywhere explicitly sexual, just generally exploring each other. That was surprisingly gratifying in and of itself, just letting their hands rove, stroking biceps, cupping hips, that kind of stuff. There was a kind of excitement to it, not knowing where each other’s hands would go, but still having a silent agreement that they wouldn’t get overtly sexual… at least not yet.

Of course, they did anyway, albeit on accident. Michelle was already practically straddling Peter, and to get closer to him she went from sitting on his thighs to, well, kinda accidentally maybe… sorta ground on him a little bit. Her pelvis _might_ have just brushed a little bit too much against a rapidly growing bulge in his pants and, well… It was intense. Not in a bad way for either of them, but just a bit too much for either of them right now.

Peter gasped, “Er, um… I don’t think I’m uh… emotionally ready for this… I’m sorry.”

“No, no don’t be. I’m kinda in the same boat,” MJ murmured back as she awkwardly ‘dismounted’ her boyfriend.

They sat next to each other for a moment, an awkward silence descending upon them. 

“So uh… now what?” MJ asked, sheepishly unable to look Peter in the eye.

“We can watch more Steven Universe?” 

“I… wouldn’t be opposed to binge watching today. Alright, lets see if we can’t finish it.”

Peter sputtered, “But there are like… one hundred and ten episodes left…”

“And they’re only eleven minutes each, we got this. It’s only like what, three o’clock?”

Peter stared at her with his best attempt at a deadpan expression. “MJ, I did the math in my head. It would take us nearly twenty hours.”

“ _Fine_. We’ll just finish the first two seasons, then.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “It’ll still take us ten hours, but fine.” He paused to consider something. “You know what, since it looks like we’re gonna be in it for the long haul, we might as well binge watch in style.”

Peter rummaged through the hall closet, and eventually found a queen-size inflatable mattress and hand pump.

“It’s almost like you do this pretty often,” Michelle said as she helped Peter push the coffee table and couch out of the way. 

Peter smiled wistfully, “Yeah… Ben and May got this old thing for when I used to spend the weekends at their place. We used to stay up late watching scary movies. Eventually they got the air mattress so we wouldn’t have to worry about falling asleep on the hard floor or crowd the couch.”

MJ couldn’t help but smile, “That sounds like-” she was going to recount when she and her parents would make pillow forts and watch old Star Trek reruns. But she stopped herself. Those memories used to make her so happy… but now they just left her heart aching.

Then MJ realized something else. “Wait, ‘visit on the weekends’? I thought you always lived with Ben and May…”

Peter sighed, sadly shaking his head as he rolled out the air mattress. “No, no… I had parents, you know. I didn’t just turn up on my aunt and uncle’s doorstep ala ‘Harry Potter’. No, my parents disappeared when I was six.” 

“You sure they… disappeared?” Michelle asked, already wincing at how callous the question sounded.

Peter noticed her discomfort. “It’s fine. And yeah… I don’t really know to be honest. Ben and May swear up and down my parents didn’t abandon me. They just… disappeared on a business trip. But I know how that sounds. Sometimes I wonder… maybe they did leave me…”

Michelle stopped pumping the air pump to take Peter’s hand. “Are you okay, Peter? We don’t have to talk about this.”

He nodded. “Yeah, lets… let’s… uh… let me help you pump this up. Your noodle arms are having trouble, I can tell.”

“Fine, Mr. Spider-man. I guess I’ll handle the popcorn then,” and with that, MJ got up and went to the kitchen. 

Peter took less than five minutes to inflate the air mattress. He watched Michelle curiously from his vantage point in the living room. “Uh, we got microwave popcorn,” he said when he noticed Michelle went for the big box of loose kernels that May bought on a whim. She stress shopped at a grocery store the day after they ‘returned’ and subsequently they ended up with a lot of extraneous stuff they didn’t need. Like a five pound bag of loose popcorn kernels.

“Ugh, microwave popcorn? No way. I know a foolproof method of making stovetop popcorn, you’ll see.” She rummaged around their pots and pans, eventually finding a fairly large wok. “Perfect.”

Peter got curious, and went into the kitchen to watch what she was doing. MJ looked around and found their two gallon jug of peanut oil, and very, _very_ carefully measured out a couple tablespoons of oil.

“Watch and learn, dork. I’m gonna show you how to make the good stuff,” Michelle said as she tossed a few tablespoons of super fine salt into the wok, along with three quarters of a cup of popcorn kernels, and the three tablespoons of peanut oil. She covered the wok tightly with foil, poked a bunch of small holes in the foil with a fork, and turned the heat to medium high.

“I wish you had some ghee. Peanut oil works, but it isn’t very flavorful. And I don’t really like adding fat to popcorn when it’s popped in fat…” Michelle said as she slowly moved the wok back and forth on the burner.

“Ghee?” Peter asked.

“It’s kinda like indian clarified butter, but it’s cooked a little bit longer so that the milk solids brown a little bit and the water almost totally cooks off.” The popcorn started slowly and steadily popping by now.

“Why are you using a wok instead of a regular pot?” Peter said as he listened to the popcorn gently popping.

“I’m kind of a particular person, if you haven’t noticed,” Michelle said, “That, and the sloped walls allow for the popped kernels to ride up the side of the wok, away from the heat where they won’t get burned.”

“Wow, you uh, take popcorn very seriously.” Peter said sorta nervously.

Michelle looked at him with her characteristic deadpan. “Peter. I take all food very seriously.”

She watched Alton Brown’s food network show pretty much on repeat as a kid. It taught her to cook, and partially inspired her love of the sciences. It also made her very persnickety about food. And now that she thought about it, kinda everything. Like she said, she was a very particular person.

The popcorn pops slowed down to the point where they only happened every couple seconds, and Michelle pulled the wok off the heat. She let it cool down just a little bit before pulling the foil off and extracting the popped kernels into a glass bowl.

“Look at that, Parker. How many hundred kernels did I start with, and less than ten old maids,” Michelle said, taking a small handful of popcorn and checking for seasoning.

It was definitely salted popcorn, but didn’t make her feel like she drank from the dead sea. Perfect. 

Peter took an experimental handful. He saw one or two burned pieces, but nowhere near the amount normal to microwave bagged popcorn.

“This is better than movie theater popcorn,” Peter said taking another handful.

“Yup, and free of the carcinogenic fake butter they drown it in.” Michelle handed him a small ramekin of melted butter she had made in the microwave. “But, if you want real butter, I’m not opposed.” Though, she really preferred ghee…

“No, no. It really doesn’t need it,” Peter said as he took the bowl to the air mattress. They made a veritable nest of pillows and blankets, snuggled in, and began the binge watching session.

Aside from one episode where Steven messed with time and turned his alternate timeline selves to dust, there really weren't any topics that triggered the pair's recent trauma. They spent the rest of the day watching the remaining thirty seven episodes of season one, bundled up like little nerd burritos. And despite the recent trauma Michelle endured, she found that it was more fun than MJ had in a long time.

Then Peter popped in the season 2 disk and, oh boy, did it get even better. Peter especially liked the episode satirizing conspiracy nuts.

“Oh boy, does Ronaldo remind me of someone I know,” Peter said with a smirk.

Michelle shrugged, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do, girlfriend of mine. I remember a week when you wouldn’t shut up about Andrew W.K.”

“Okay, hold up a minute, that whole Steev Mike situation-”

“Or how about that time where you obsessed over the missing 401?” Peter interjected.

MJ narrowed her eyes, “It’s the Missing 411, dork. If you’re gonna poke fun at me, at least get it right.” She growled, pulled her knees to her chest. “You’re a meanie. My boyfriend is a meanie.” Michelle pouted, complete with a quivering lower lip.

Peter sighed, pulling her into his arms. “You know I’m kidding right? I actually love your conspiracy obsessions.” 

MJ smirked, “Yeah, I know. Actually, I honestly don’t believe any of them. I just read up on them because I find them interesting. Some of them are really funny. And most are just… fascinating windows into really really weird minds.”

“Oh, I know you. There are some you honestly believe.” Peter said, lightly poking her in the ribs.

Michelle rolled her eyes, “Yes, there are a few that I think might, _might_ be possible. But like, I’m not on the level of believing in… snersons…” Michelle said, referencing the episode they were currently watching.

“Sure, you don’t…”

They spent the rest of the night watching all the way through season two, eventually finally falling asleep a few episodes into season 3.

* * *

“Gah! Oh my god!” May bolted awake to the sound of her phone emitting a really, really loud air raid siren. It was her personalized alarm she set whenever work called. It had to be ridiculously loud and annoying, otherwise she’d sleep right through it.

“Why did I agree to be on call…” May grumbled as she stepped into the shower. It was only 4 AM, but at least she got a full -ish night’s sleep. Despite getting in bed at three in the afternoon the previous night, she didn’t fall asleep until 8. It didn’t matter how bone-tired she was, she never was able to sleep while the sun was up.

May woke up, showered, and dressed all under half an hour. She had to kind of leave in a hurry, but she just had to pause to take in the state of the living room. The couch and coffee table were pushed to the side, the old air mattress set up, and MJ and Peter snuggled up together, softly snoring in the glow of the tv.

May turned the tv off, and let the pair sleep. MJ was curled up in the crook of Peter’s arm, her head comfortably resting on his chest, while Peter’s arms were protectively wrapped around her body. It was just so cute. It reminded her of when she and Ben first started dating. A thought that brought a dull ache to her heart that sort of soured the moment. So she left as quietly as she could, resolute to face whatever the hospital had in store for her that day.

Hours later, the young couple woke as the sun slowly rose, bathing the living room in its golden, annoying light.

“ _Parker_ ,” MJ groaned, “Turn the sun off…”

Peter woke, shielding his eyes from the direct sunlight, “MJ, I’m Spider-man, not a miracle worker.”

“But you can close the blinds, bug boy.” 

Peter groaned, and groggily got up to close the damned shades. “Spiders aren’t bugs. It’s basic phylogeny, Jones.”

“Stop being smart, it’s too early to be smart,” Michelle whined, pulling the blankets over her head.

“MJ, it's like, ten o’clock. We need to get up or we’ll wreck our sleep schedules.” Peter said, pulling the blankets off her.

“No! I am a teenager, having a fucked sleep schedule is par for the course! Besided, it’s not like there’s any reason to have a decent sleep schedule anyway.”

“Do you want me to get a bucket of ice water? You’re on a one way ticket to getting a bucket of ice water dumped on you,” Peter fake threatened.

MJ literally jumped out of bed. “You try and I’ll practice performing a bilateral orchiectomy.”

“I have no idea what that is. That threat has no meaning to me.”

Michelle rolled her eyes, “Someone needs to study up on medical terminology. I just threatened to castrate you, Parker.”

“Suddenly that threat means everything to me. But still. We need to get up and… do something. I’m kinda going stir crazy here,” Peter said, slowly backing away.

“Fine, we can do something. But I gotta take a shower first. I think it’s been like, four days and I’m feeling grody.”

“Leave me some hot water. I know for a fact this place has a teakettle for a hot water heater.” 

MJ rummaged through her duffel bag looking for her basic toiletries. “I’ll try my best, but I can’t promise you anything.”

Peter busied himself by putting the living room back to normal as MJ took her shower. She walked out, towel tightly wrapped around her body, just as Peter finished packing the mattress away.

“It’s all yours. You might have five minutes of hot water to yourself. Maybe,” MJ offered.

“Uh. Thanks,” Peter mumbled, heavily averting his eyes.

“What? I’m wearing a towel,” MJ said, confused.

“Yeah, yeah… I know I just… wasn’t expecting it,” Peter replied nervously.

MJ furiously blushed. She walked out in only a towel for a reason. “Y-you can look at me… Uh, I mean. If you want, dork. No one’s making you.”

“Guh… ‘kay…” He mumbled like an idiot.

He let his eyes roam a little bit, watching the water droplets drip from her hair, flow down her shoulders and into the valley between her barely covered breasts.

Suddenly, the amount of hot water reserved in the water heater couldn’t matter less. MJ smirked, just a little bit proud of the looks she got from Peter and seductively strode to him. She was going to go in for a kiss but-

“Ugh, go take a shower, and most importantly, brush your teeth. You have awful morning breath,” MJ said, not-so- smoothly pivoting to kiss his cheek at the last second.

“Y-yeah.. Okay.” Peter couldn’t be sure, but he suspected his melted brain might be dribbling out his ears.

MJ rolled her eyes, but found inwardly found his awkwardness reassuring. Like, she was doing this all for the first time, and it helped to know that Peter was too.

Peter almost sprinted into the shower, very much in a hurry to take his long, cold shower.

MJ giggled to herself as soon as the bathroom door was closed. She always took a perverse pleasure in making Peter feel slightly uncomfortable, and this time was just too funny.

She had to get dressed though. As fun as it was making Peter’s heart flutter, walking around in a towel all day would be inconvenient. She decided to go with something extra warm, considering it was New York in October, and it looked like it was going to be overcast today.

She decided a plain white cotton long sleeve under a green plaid button up under her favorite black denim jacket and dark blue skinny jeans would do nicely. Peter still wasn’t done with his shower by the time she finished getting dressed, so she found a mostly empty sketchpad in the jumble that was her duffle bag, plopped onto Peter’s bed, and decided to sketch something.

MJ knew she wanted to draw something, the problem was she didn’t know what… Then she thought about the fact that she was pseudo dating a superhero, and let the inspiration flow. She always wondered what it would be like to swing with him, so that’s what she drew, Spider-man in mid swing, and MJ holding on for dear life. She even wrote a speech bubble that said, ‘Insert blood curdling shrieks here’. As much as she _wanted_ to swing with him, she was no adrenaline junky, and knew she’d probably be freaking out the entire time.

Michelle had just started darkening the outline when Peter walked in, similarly only wearing a towel.

“Oh… so that’s what that feels like…” MJ murmured as approximately eighty percent of her blood rushed to her face.

“Yeah,” Peter scoffed, going so far as to flex his toned biceps, “Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

“I don’t know what you mean, this feels amazing,” MJ murmured, totally mesmerized by the definition of his abs. “You know, shirts… shirts are overrated, you know? Maybe you should skip a shirt today.”

“Yeah, in fifty degree weather? Not gonna happen. I’m probably gonna bundle up actually.”

MJ had just enough brain function to wonder, “Why? It’s not really all that cold out.”

“One of the drawbacks of my spider-powers. I have issues with thermal regulating. I mean, I’m not ectothermic or anything, but like. Cold bothers me way more than the average person.”

MJ could only nod and stare, and nod… and stare… and… nod…

“MJ. Unless you wanna see a whole lot more of me, you’d probably let me get changed.”

Michelle’s eyes widened, “You know, I think I’m absolutely fine where I am, thank you.”

“Get outta here, ya perv,” Peter said, shooing MJ out the door.

MJ contented herself with continuing her drawing on the couch, spending extra time on Spider-man’s biceps and abs, now that she knew for a fact what they looked like.

“Oh my god, you look like Marty McFly,” MJ laughed as she saw what her boyfriend was wearing.

“What? No I… don’t…” Peter trailed off as he caught a glimpse of himself in the hall mirror. He decided on an denim jacket, vest, and plaid shirt because he wanted to keep warm, not because he wanted to emulate one of his favorite movie characters. No, that was just a happy accident.

“You’ve seen Back to the Future?” Peter asked after getting a good look at how kinda ridiculous he looked.

MJ sighed in exasperation, “Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I don’t like science fiction movies, loser.”

Peter sputtered, “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, like. You always seemed kinda… above that kinda media? I guess? Like, I’m always seeing you reading very… intellectual material and like-”

MJ pinched the bridge of her nose, “Just because I read books you’ve never heard of doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate classic movies, dork.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, like… uh… I’m just… Gonna go die in the hole I’ve dug, I guess. RIP Peter Parker, he died how he lived, with a foot in his mouth.” Peter actually laid down on the floor.

“Oh for the love of- stop being a dramatic baby, and I’ll stop busting your balls, deal?”

Peter cracked an eye open, “Deal,” and got up.

“So uh, what are we gonna do today?” MJ asked, still barely looking up from her drawing.

“I dunno… I um… I have money for an Uber if we wanna go somewhere… I just don’t know where…” Peter replied lamely.

“Are you sure May’s okay with using-” Michelle began.

“Oh, it’s not May’s. I have a little money squirreled away,” Peter replied, hoping Michelle wouldn’t question it further. In truth, Tony left him a rather large sum. Of course, he couldn’t access the majority of it until he turned eighteen. But he did have access to a few hundred bucks in the here and now.

“Gotcha,” she simply replied. She got the feeling Peter didn’t wanna talk about it, and she wasn’t gonna push the issue.

Peter just so happened to check his phone on instinct. And it just so happened that a very important person had texted him in that exact moment...

**Ne(r)d** : Hey, you’re, uh, back right? Are you free today?

  
  


* * *

“Alright, here we are. Be safe, you two. The world’s just a bit crazy right now,” their Uber driver said as she pulled up to the parking lot of a newish looking apartment complex.

“We will, ma’am. Thanks for the lift,” Peter said as he and Michelle hopped out of the car.

“You’re very welcome, sweetie, but I work for Uber, not Lyft,” the driver said as she drove off.

“You know, I was going to suggest giving her a five star rating, Peter. Her car was very clean, had nice seats, and she wasn’t that bad of a conversationalist, as far as suburban soccer moms go. But then she had to pun. Four stars, Peter. Four stars.” MJ said as they made their way into the complex.

“Are you kidding, that pun was worth five stars in and of itself,” Peter said as he gave their driver a five-star rating.

“Ugh… you don’t pun when you fight crime, do you?” MJ asked.

“Are you kidding? That’s the best time to pun.”

“Okay, so I was going to consider taking up a life of crime, but the idea of you making a dumb pun as you web me up is enough to keep me a law abiding citizen.” MJ said as they strolled through the complex. “How did Nedward afford this place anyway? These apartmen’s look pretty swanky.”

Peter sighed, “I guess he… went to college and got a really good job, I guess?” He was still grappling with the fact that some of his friends he’d just seen a week and a bit ago were now… five years older than him.

“Oh… yeah, right.”

Peter checked Ned’s texts again. “It’s this one, on the left,” Peter said, finally finding the right apartment number.

They glanced at each other, both taking a slow breath before Peter knocked on the door.

They heard the sound of feet frantically slapping against hardwood from inside the apartment, and the door all but flew open.

“Mommy!” A little toddler shouted as he gripped MJ’s legs. It took a few uncomfortable seconds for the small child to realize the legs he currently had his chubby little arms wrapped around did not, in fact, belong to his mommy.

“Gah! Stwaynjuh daynjuh!” The tiny toddler cried as he leapt back, falling on his diapered rear before scrambling onto his feet and scampering back into the apartment.

“Are you sure this is the right one?” MJ asked.

Peter was too shocked to answer. The little boy… he had a blue t-shirt with a dinosaur skeleton printed on the front, and more importantly, he had a very, very familiar looking face. He looked just like a little baby version of...

They heard a very familiar voice from somewhere inside the apartment. “Petey, what did I tell you about opening the front door when I’m not… there…” Ned trailed off as he rounded the corner and saw the young couple awkwardly standing there.

* * *

MJ and Peter were both too shocked to say anything at first. For one, they never expected their best friend to already be a dad… and two… He looked… different. Ned still had his dorky center-part hair cut, of course, and he was a little taller, and also must have lost a significant amount of weight in the five years. He was still a little chubby, that would never go away, but he was certainly more than a bit thinner now.

“Hey… guys. Um… you wanna come in out of the cold?” Ned asked awkwardly.

“Yeah, yeah sure…” Peter said as he walked into the well furnished apartment.

The front door led into an immediate living room that was probably one and a half times larger than Peters. It had a very large, very comfortable looking L-shaped sectional across from a huge eighty inch flat screen tv. Flanking the massive entertainment center were two large bookshelves full to bursting with classic literature, blu-rays, dvds, action figures of all kinds, a veritable shrine of nerd-dom.

The living room was separated from the kitchen by a large bar-style countertop. The kitchen itself was maybe half the size of the huge living room, and had a state of the art gas range, a huge oven, and like, the biggest home refrigerator the couple had ever seen. Whatever Ned did for a living, it must have paid very, very well.

“So um, make yourself at home,” Ned said as he ushered them in.

Peter and MJ took of their shoes at the door, because they weren’t monsters, and awkwardly sat down at the couch.

“So um… this is Petey. Say ‘hi’ Petey,” Ned said to the tiny child currently hiding behind his legs.

“Hewwo…” Little Petey squeaked.

“Wait, you’re Petey?” Peter asked, “You can’t be Petey, I’m Petey.” Peter said a little breathlessly… Did Ned really name his kid after him?

“Ignore the dork, kiddo. He’s Peter,” MJ said, putting extra emphasis on the ‘r’. “And I’m MJ.”

The tiny child squinted at them, before gasping. He ran off to a nearby shelf, pulling down a framed picture. He stared at them, then looked at the picture, then back to them. “Da-yee! Da-yee!, Iss Tiyo,” Petey said pointing to Peter, “An, an Tiya!” The toddler continued, gesturing to MJ.

“They sure are, buddy… they sure are…” Ned said.

Peter’s eyes widened. He only picked up a couple tagalog words during his decade long friendship with Ned, but those two he vaguely recognised.

The tiny lad carefully put the picture back, and toddled off to the adjoining hallway, presumably to go to his room. He came back a few seconds later carrying a children’s book almost the size of him.

“Tiya! Tiya!” Petey said eagerly, “Wook! Wook! Is m’ dye-soar book! Dye-soar book!”

MJ looked to Ned to translate. “That’s his dinosaur book. Do you want Tiya to read it to you, buddy?”

Petey nodded eagerly. Michelle got up and plopped down on the floor next to the excited child.

“Petey’s Great Big Book of Ancient Animals?” MJ said, reading the faux leather bound cover aloud.

“Yes, I made a book about prehistoric life for my child, did you expect anything else from me?” Ned said, his face split by a proud grin.

MJ shook her head ‘no’ and began to read to the excited toddler, very impressed by the overall production value of an obviously hand made book. The illustrations looked very professional, and she was pretty sure they were hand drawn in. A one of a kind little wonder, just like the kid it belonged to. “Billions of years ago, the first life formed in Earth’s ancient seas…” she began.

Peter and Ned left her to read to Petey, instead having their own conversation, with MJ taking breaks from reading to interject every once in a while.

“Holy cra-,” Peter cut himself off, suddenly very aware of the child in the room with them, “Crud, Ned! You’re a dad!” 

“Yeah, sometimes it’s a little hard for me to believe myself. But I am.” 

Peter looked to the small child now thoroughly entrenched in his girlfriend’s lap. “So um… how old is he?”

“Petey, how old are you, bud?” Ned asked.

Little Petey looked up from his picture book. “Wuh? Da-yee! I two an’ a bit! You know dat,” the little lad said, as exasperated as a two year old can be.

“So um… his mom?” Peter asked, very awkwardly.

“Oh, she went out to get some more rice, she’ll be back in a bit.” Ned replied.

“I wan’ champadoh!” Petey said at the mention of rice.

“I know you want champorado, bud. But we’re out of sweet rice, that’s why mommy left, remember?”

Petey nodded sagely, before his attention went back to MJ and her book reading.

“Okay, I gotta ask,” Peter continued, “What do you do to afford a place like this, and can you get me an in for after college?”

Ned laughed, “Right now I’m working for an indie game company as a contracted programmer. That way I can work from home and look after the kids.”

MJ paused her reading. “Wait, kids? Plural?”

And at that exact moment, a shrill cry echoed from both the hallway and a nearby baby monitor. 

“Speak of the wee-devil,” Ned said as he got up, “I’ll be right back,” and walked down the hallway to what looked at a glance to be the apartment’s master bedroom.

He came back with his arms full of a much tinier baby. Peter wasn’t very good at guessing the ages of babies, having very limited experience with them, but he guessed that they couldn’t be older than a few months.

MJ’s throat closed up when she saw the admittedly adorable littlest one. She could handle being around Little Petey because he was a toddler, she could compartmentalize. But being in the presence of a little baby… she inevitably was reminded of her sister. She audibly gasped as her heart felt like someone squeezed it in a vice.

“Tiya? No cwy Tiya,” Little Petey said as he reached up to clumsily brush the tears away from MJ’s cheeks. 

She marveled at the fact that his little palms were the softest things she ever experienced, then asked, “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m better now. Where was I?”

Petey pointed to the page. “Cabyun ‘splosion.”

“Oh, yes, the Cambrian explosion, of course.”

The tightness in her chest slowly eased up as she focused on being the best children’s book reader ever.

Ned noticed her discomfort of course. “I can um… her naptime isn’t quite over yet, I can-”

MJ vehemently shook her head, “Oh, no, I don’t wanna inconvenience you. Besides… I think she’s… helping, in a-a way?”

“Tiya wead?” Petey asked.

“Oh yes, I’m very sorry,” she continued on with her reading.

Peter for his part, stared at the little baby in Ned’s arms. “Oh, who are you wittle one?”

“Oh, right,” Ned said, “This is… um… this is Betty. She’d say hi, but she’s only three months old.”

Peter paused. “Wait, named after…” 

Ned nodded, “Yeah, our Betty. Betty Brant.”

“Oh… Uh... is she...” Peter sighed.

Ned nodded sadly. “Um. She was on a bus when… when _it_ happened. The bus driver vanished. She uh… d-didn’t make it…”

Peter slowly sat down, “Oh my god.”

MJ focused even more on reading to Petey.

Luckily, the somber silence between them was broken by a frantic knocking on the front door.

“Ned! Can’t get the door, fifty pound bag of rice, hurry!” 

Ned looked at his baby, looked at Peter, made an ‘I’m sorry can you hold my kid for a bit’ face, and quickly passed the squirmy baby over.

Peter quickly found his arms full of small baby. Thankfully, he was watching Ned pretty carefully and knew to support their head and stuff.

Ned quickly opened the door, grabbing the huge bag of rice and shouldering it like it was nothing. 

“Thanks babe. Remind me to not skip on… arm… day…” Someone said as they turned the corner. That someone being none other than-

“Liz?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how much joy it brought me to write tiny little baby Petey after all this sadness. No. Idea. Honestly, if you can't tell, writing small children is real fun for me. And look! Surprise Liz! I love Betty as much as the next person. But like, since they were briefly together in FFH, she's the only person people seem to pair Ned with, and I wanted to change that. Plus, I like drama. And Liz is a cool person to write. 
> 
> So yeah, I guess that's me signing off. I'll see you guys next chapter... Oh wait, also. Remember guys, stay inside, don't hoard supplies and try your best to take care of your mental health. I know that's really, really hard to do with everything currently going on but like, and I'm honestly trying to figure it out myself but like... we can at least give it our best college try? Right? Right? Anyway, see you next time, for real this time.


End file.
